Binfield Men

Binfield v Flackwell Heath

With my first choice of a last visit to Melksham before they move grounds, suddenly dropping off the fixture list halfway through the day, it was plan B, a revisit to East Berks and Binfield.

Even I am bored of pictures of Swindon so instead here is the move I did off Reading, the Gatwick bound turbo on the left as far as Wokingham, for the South West Trains unit on to Bracknell.

When the latter arrived, it was showing signs of collision damaged cabs that had been permanently coupled together.

So onwards to the architectural masterpiece that is Bracknell station.

I worked in Bracknell for a brief period before I joined the railway. The town centre was pretty horrific and is now being rebuilt. The only surviving relic being the tower block I was based in.

They have tried to brighten up the numerous subways with paintings. This one charts Bracknell through history, showing the first football on the right.....

....through to the current Bracknell Town. I went and saw them once, in a meaningless mid table game, and they beat Whyteleafe 10-0.

Only guide pub in the centre is predictably a Wetherspoons, the Manor being cleared with an awful Banks & Taylor - Little Sheff, and a much better Lancaster - Admiral Archer.

It was a bus move to Binfield. All the big operators, First, Stagecoach and Go-ahead, have pulled out of Bracknell, leaving local operator Courtney. Doing the duties on the 150 route was an ex-Huyton travel Optare Solo.

This deposited me on the outskirts of Binfield.  The area was originally hunting grounds for Henry VIII.  In more recent times, the local clay resources meant it became a major brick and tile producer, the Albert Hall being built from Binfield brick.  These days, it is a place for people in Bracknell to aspire to move to.

Hell hath no fury like a Home Counties residents association, so the football club is located some way out of the village, down a dark main road.

This then turned into a dark country lane, with signs of a floodlight in the distance....

...before finally revealing itself, down a farm track.

I had to join a traffic jam to get in, but eventually I did so.

Binfield 0 v Flackwell Heath 2, Uhlsport Hellenic League, Premier Division.

Binfield FC will be 125 years old next season. Much of their existence has been in the Ascott or Reading leagues, but they progressed to the Chiltonian in 1990, and on to the Hellenic when the two leagues merged. They won division 1 in 2008, and have been in the premier ever since, being runners up in 2011.

Flackwell Heath is on the southern outskirts of High Wycombe. They joined the Hellenic league in the late 1970s, before progressing to the Athenian an Isthmian Leagues. They rejoined the Hellenic in 2007, and won it last season. They got promotion to the Southern League division 1, but Clevedon's late demotion meant they were moved to the south and west vice the central, which would have entailed masses more travelling, so they chose to stay in the Hellenic.

Into the clubhouse and a selection to put many guide pubs to shame, numerous bottles and also two Marlow - Rebellions on poly.

I went with the Zebedee.
  

At least two of the home side looked to be playing under their porn star monikers.

Binfield moved to the ground in the early eighties, and have been slowly building it up since. A decent changing room and clubhouse block exists behind the goal, with floodlights and a stand being fairly new additions.

The main stand looks pre-Arena uk so is probably an Atcost offering.

Behind the goal was the favoured spectator vantage point, but split into two distinctive groups, the vocal drinkers on one side....

....and the old moaners on the other. Note the TV interview boards at the far end of the cover.

A decent selection of grass banks and alternate vantage points around the stadium.

Gladiators ready.

Disappointingly, as I have now got round to setting up the Goalkeeper’s Towels Twitter account, the home keeper was wipe free.

Fortunately, the away goalie delivered.

In a world of contra shoulders, both kits were encouragingly plain primary colours, like an entry level Subbuteo set.

Game was 8th versus 3rd, and Flackwell had most of the early play….

…scoring early on with a well taken goal.

At one point, the away team were having a go at the ref for missing a hand ball. Instead of the usual repost of telling them to piss off, or even more usual of giving them a soft decision to make up for it, he replied with the fortune cookie statement of “If I got everything right, we’d live in a perfect world”, which had the centre halves reaching for their quotation books.

The visitors scored another, but I had to leave with ten minutes to go, making use of this enchanted gateway behind the far goal.

One last look before heading off. It finished 0-2.

By now a full moon was out, which assisted on the dark byways of East Berks.
  

Back at the bus stop for the last service of the day…..

….which I had to myself. Maybe these big bus operators know what they are doing.

Almost unfeasibly, the outside of the station was even uglier than the platform side.
  

It was onto a SWT service back to Reading, where I made a -4 connection onto the last train of the day to Swindon, meaning I didn’t have to endure a 40 minute wait for a replacement bus service.